Fortunes And Futures
by badly-knitted
Summary: Fourth of July 2000, Dee and his three best friends, Arnon, Tommy, and Barry, visit a street fair fortune-teller and make a pact. Set mainly after the manga, with reference to Vol. 6 Act 18. Written for Challenge 142: Fortune at fan flashworks.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Fortunes And Futures – Part 1-2

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Dee, Arnon, Tommy, Barry, Ryo, OCs

 **Rating:** PG

 **Setting:** After the manga, with reference to Vol. 6 Act 18.

 **Summary:** Fourth of July 2000, Dee and his three best friends visit a fortune-teller and make a pact,

 **Word Count:** 2175

 **Content Notes:** Mentions death of a minor.

 **Written For:** Challenge 142: Fortune at fan_flashworks.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.

.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

.

The Fourth of July celebrations were underway throughout the city, with everyone in a festive mood, enjoying the various entertainments on offer. Dee and his three friends made their way through the crowds of people meandering between stalls at a street fair; they only had a few bucks between them and, intent on making their limited funds stretch at far as possible, they were debating which of the attractions would give them the best value for money.

Times like this, Dee mused, being an orphan sucked. There were loads of other kids around, the younger ones with their parents, the teens with their friends. They'd probably all saved their allowances, maybe even been given a bit extra, just so they could have fun today. Unlike Dee and his buddies, they didn't have to pick and choose; they could do it all.

"Hey, look!" Arnon pointed eagerly towards a tent off to one side. "Why don't we try that?"

"A fortune teller?" Dee snorted.

"C'mon, Dee, it's only twenty-five cents a go. Don't you want to get your palm read, find out what the future has in store?"

"Don't be a dumbass, Arnon! Fortune-tellers aren't real, it's all fake and trickery, they tell you what you wanna hear, how you're gonna get rich, be successful, meet some amazing chick and have a bunch of kids. None of it's true, nobody can really see the future."

Arnon's shoulders sagged. "I know it's not real, I just thought it would be a bit of fun. You know, something we could laugh about in a few years. Besides, it's cheap; we could all have a go for a dollar. It's the cheapest thing I've seen; even the other fortune-tellers are charging fifty cents. One back there even wanted a dollar a go."

"He's got a point," Tommy agreed. "I mean, the games are probably all rigged so even if we pay to play we won't win anything, the rides are too expensive, and we can nick any food or drink we want, what would it hurt to spend one measly dollar on having a laugh?"

Put that way, Dee couldn't argue. "Okay, sure, why the hell not? I guess it could be fun. Hey! How about this? What if we keep what we're told secret, don't tell each other anything, we write it down instead… Tommy, you got your notebook?"

"Yeah, here." Tommy pulled the ratty, dog-eared pad from his back pocket. It went everywhere with him because he planned on becoming a writer, or maybe a reporter.

"Give us a page each and we'll write down our fortunes, seal them in envelopes, not to be opened until… Let's see," Dee thought for a minute. "We're all fifteen now so, how about exactly fifteen years from today, no matter where we've ended up, we all meet up, open our envelopes and see whether the gypsy got anything right?"

"Yeah, that would be cool!" Barry grinned. "We can meet right back here, July fourth in twenty fifteen, and compare notes. Deal?"

"Deal!" the friends agreed, bumping fists to seal the promise.

"It was Arnon's idea," Tommy added, "so he should go first."

Dee, keeper of their combined funds, handed everyone a quarter and they made their way over to the tent. Up close it had clearly seen better days; it was patched and faded and not a very popular attraction. In fact the four of them seemed to be the only people interested. A young boy, maybe seven or eight years old, waited to usher customers into the fortune-teller's presence. He held the tent flap aside to let Arnon enter.

Inside it was dimly lit and smelled a bit musty, but it looked pretty much as Arnon had expected; a round table covered with a cloth, a crystal ball, a deck of tarot cards, and a wizened old woman sitting across the table from an empty chair.

"Be seated," the woman said in a clear but quiet, oddly accented voice. As he settled into the chair she extended her hand across the table, palm upwards, and he dropped his small coin into it.

"A palm reading, the cards, or the crystal ball?" she asked, watching him with sharp little eyes peering out of her wrinkled face like chocolate chips in a cookie.

Arnon bit his lip; he hadn't expected to be given a choice. "Um, palm please."

"Give me your hands then, both of them."

Quickly he wiped his hands on the legs of his jeans, then rested them, palms upwards, on the table. The old woman's hands were cool despite the summer heat, and her skin felt thin and papery. She studied his palms carefully, one after the other.

"Soon you will have a very difficult choice to make between two paths. One path will bring you money, but not fortune. You will be expected to do much that you will not enjoy, and your life will be hard and very short. The second path means years of hardship, ultimately leading to success. It is a longer path, and in some ways more difficult, but it brings rewards that are worth more than money. Choose wisely, because the choice will only come once, and after you set foot on your chosen path there will be no going back."

"Can't you tell me which path to choose?" Arnon asked.

The fortune-teller smiled sadly. "Only you can choose, child. I can tell you a little of what lies ahead for you, but each of us must decide our own destiny."

"Okay, thanks." Arnon headed out into the sunshine; he'd already decided that he'd take the path that led to money. So what if he wouldn't like the work? No one liked working, his mom sure didn't, but they really needed money; most months they were barely scraping by with the rent.

"Who goes next?" Dee asked when Arnon emerged.

"How about we do it alphabetically?" Tommy suggested.

"That would mean you'll be last," Dee pointed out.

Tommy shrugged. "I don't mind, it's not like I'll be waitin' all that long."

"Fine with me then." Dee shrugged.

"That means I'm next!" Barry grinned, heading towards the tent. "This is gonna be fun!" he added as the boy let him in.

Taking his place at the table, Barry paid the fortune-teller, crossing her palm with silver. He couldn't keep from laughing at the thought. "So what happens now?"

"Choose what you wish to have read." She gestured, "Cards, crystal ball, or palm?"

"Crystal ball would be cool!"

"Very well. Place your hands palm down on the table, to either side of the ball."

Barry did as instructed. "Now what?"

"Now, I will tell you what I see in your future." The woman cupped the ball between her palms and the clear surface filled with swirling clouds. Despite himself, Barry was impressed. "There is sadness in your near future, the loss of someone close to you."

Barry nodded. That was a vague enough fortune that it could fit anyone. After all, his grandfather was old and not in good health, he probably didn't have much time left.

"You have talent, enough for a scholarship, but injury will ensure you never fulfil your dream. Your destiny will take you on a different path. It will be a good life, but… The red car would be a mistake; the blue is a better choice. Remember that."

As soon as Barry stepped out of the tent he pulled out his sheet of paper and scribbled down everything he'd been told, folding it and sealing it in one of the envelopes Dee had scrounged from a nearby stall. When he looked up, Dee had already gone inside.

"Be seated."

Dee slouched into the chair across the table from the old fortune-teller and grinned. "How's this work?"

"You do not believe, but belief is not required. Cross my palm with silver." Holding out her hand, she smiled, deepening the wrinkles in her face.

Dee dropped the coin into her open hand and she cocked her head to one side. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

She shook her head. "It must be hard to grow up never knowing your family. I cannot help you with that, the past holds its secrets close, there are things we are meant never to know, but the future… Sometimes it allows glimpses. I think for you I will read the cards. I see things in you that I would clarify." She offered Dee the cards and he shuffled them, handing them back and watching as the old woman laid them out with practiced ease and one by one, turned them face up.

"So what do they say?"

"Ah, the impatience of youth! That is something _you_ will never completely grow out of." The words were spoken with a chuckle. "You wish to know what lies ahead, I can tell you this: You believe you have already decided on your path through life, but in the coming year, much of what you think you know will be changed forever. The knowledge will cut deeply, painfully, your heart will be torn more than once, but from it you will find your true vocation. It will not be easy, but you will never regret the choice you make. Give me your left hand."

Dee frowned, but did as she asked. Old fingers traced the lines on his palm so lightly it tickled and he had to force himself not to pull his hand away. "Your partner will complete your life, not a woman but a man, with eyes as dark as night. Winning him will take time and a great deal of patience, you will be tested to your limits and beyond, but you must not give up. He is worth the effort."

As his hand was released, Dee rose to his feet. "Um, thanks. I think."

She inclined her head graciously. "One day, you will understand."

Hands shoved in pockets and still frowning, Dee sauntered out of the tent and wandered over to a nearby bench. Slumping onto it, he took his sheet of notepaper and wrote quickly, trying to get everything down before he forgot, then sealed the folded paper in his envelope and wrote his name, the place and the date on it, along with the words 'To be opened July 4th, 2015'. As he tucked the folded envelope in his pocket, Arnon and Barry joined him, flopping down on either side of him.

"Weird, huh?" said Barry.

"Yeah. I figured it would be dumb, but now I'm not so sure."

"I know what ya mean." Barry leant his elbow on his knee, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "There's somethin' about that lady makes you wanna believe what she tells ya, even if you don't understand it."

"Guess that's what makes her good at what she does," Dee said with a grin. "I'm surprised she doesn't have more customers though."

"She probably will later, when people want to sit down for a few minutes," Arnon suggested. "Right now, most people are too busy with other stuff. Wonder how Tommy's getting on?"

In the fortune-teller's tent, Tommy sat at the table watching as the old woman read her crystal ball. The smoke effects were seriously cool and he idly wondered how she made it go all swirly inside.

"It is the mists of time, they obscure past and future, only allowing brief glimpses to those with the ability to see."

That startled Tommy, but he decided he must have said something out loud, or maybe it was the way he was looking at the crystal ball that let her guess what he was thinking.

"The path ahead of you will be filled with excitement and adventure; you will travel to many places, and there will be times when you will fear for your life, but despite great peril you will return home safely, back to where you began. Only then will you follow your dream; not quite in the way you expect, but it will bring you great happiness. When you are lost and in danger, follow the white dog closely, he will lead you to safety."

"I will." Tommy didn't know when he'd started to believe what he was being told, but he did believe. Before even leaving the table, he took out his notepad and wrote everything down, tearing out the page and sealing it in his envelope, just as his friends had already done. He hardly needed to because he was sure he'd never forget. "Thank you." He smiled across at the old woman as he got up and went to re-join his friends.

She watched him leave with a sad expression on her face. Four friends, but only three futures; the fourth boy, the smallest, would not see the spring and there was nothing she could do to change that. She had warned him as much as she could, tried to give him a choice, but it would change nothing. His future was set.

.

TBC in Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Fortunes And Futures – Part 2-2

 **Author:** badly-knitted

 **Characters:** Dee, Arnon, Tommy, Barry, Ryo, OCs

 **Rating:** PG

 **Setting:** After the manga, with reference to Vol. 6 Act 18.

 **Summary:** Fourth of July 2000, Dee and his three best friends visit a fortune-teller and make a pact,

 **Word Count:** 2726

 **Content Notes:** Mentions death of a minor.

 **Written For:** Challenge 142: Fortune at fan_flashworks.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.

.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

.

After Arnon was killed, the three surviving friends visited his mom. Among his things they found the sealed envelope containing his fortune from the previous summer.

"What should we do?" Tommy asked the question in all their minds.

"We made a pact," Dee said quietly, "it's a promise we can't break, especially now. Arnon's the one who talked us into visiting the fortune-teller in the first place, it would feel like… I don't know, some kind of betrayal."

The other two nodded agreement.

"So we stick to our plan. I guess one of us will have to keep Arnon's fortune for him." Barry's tone was unusually sombre. "You were closest to him, Dee, I think it should be you."

Dee let out a heavy sigh. "Okay." Picking up the sealed envelope, he tucked it inside the breast pocket of his jacket. "I'll put in with mine when I get back to the orphanage."

"I miss him," Tommy said quietly.

"We all do; nothing's the same. We need to stick together, more than ever now. And we steer clear of anything to do with drugs. They cost Arnon and Jess their lives, let's not make the same mistakes they did." Dee's green eyes were hard and bright with anger. "When I'm a cop, I'll make those bastards pay for what they did. Arnon was just a kid; how many others are there just like him, sucked in by the offer of easy money?"

"We'll always be friends though, won't we?" Tommy looked at his buddies. "No matter what, right?"

"Right," Barry and Dee agreed.

.

OoOoOoO

.

As always happens when kids grow up, despite their best intentions they slowly drifted apart. When they graduated high school, Barry landed a football scholarship and headed off to college. Dee, fresh faced and eager, entered the police academy, while Tommy, with no way of affording college fees, drifted from one dead-end job to another for a few months before accidentally walking into an army enlistment office while delivering leaflets. He came out an hour later having enlisted for four years.

In his junior year, Barry tore up his knee and his dreams of a pro career were over. Throwing himself into his other studies as a distraction, he discovered a previously unknown talent for computer sciences, and decided to become a teacher, eventually graduating from college with degrees in both. He joined the staff of a nearby high school for the fall semester.

A couple of years later, when the clapped-out old Ford he'd been driving finally gave up, he starting searching the ads for something better. A cherry red Corvette caught his eye, but somewhere in the back of his mind, something nagged at him. Instead of handing over the cash, he went to look at the last car on his list, a far less flashy blue sedan. The Corvette was gorgeous, but the sedan was more practical, and while haggling over the price, he met the owner's neighbour. They went on their first date the following night and she moved in with him a few months later. A fellow teacher bought the Corvette and had nothing but trouble with it, while the blue sedan never gave Barry a moment's bother.

.

OoOoOoO

.

Tommy thrived during his time in the army. He went all over the world, visiting every continent at least once and gaining a reputation for being phenomenally lucky in the process. Despite all the dangerous situations he found himself in, he always made it through in one piece.

One day, out on patrol with his squad, they stumbled into a minefield; it hadn't been there the last time they patrolled the area. Two good men lost their lives that day, but Tommy led the rest of them to safety. When asked later how he'd done it, he simply shrugged and said he'd followed the white dog; it seemed to know the way.

"But Tommy," one of his buddies said afterwards, "I didn't see no dog." No one else had seen it either.

There was a thoughtful expression on Tommy's face and he was silent for a several minutes before he finally spoke. He had no idea why he'd been so sure that they'd be safe if they just followed where the dog walked, and at the time he'd believed it to be a real dog, but now he had to wonder if maybe it had been something else, like a guardian angel of some sort.

"I knew this kid when I was growing up in New York, scrawny little guy with white-blond hair. He died when we were sixteen. I think… maybe he's been watching over me and came back to lead me to safety." It was as good an explanation as any.

When his four years were up, Tommy received an honourable discharge. He briefly considered re-enlisting, but decided that would be pushing his luck. Besides, he was ready to try something new; he still hadn't given up his dreams of becoming a writer so he went home, back to New York, got a job tending bar and spent his free time trying to write. He'd thought the bar would be a great place to pick up ideas, but nothing seemed to inspire him until he met a young single mother.

They started dating, and in the evenings he'd tell his girlfriend's small daughter fantastical tales.

"You're really good at that, Tommy," Stella told him. "Why don't you write your stories down? Maybe you could get them published."

When he'd first dreamed of being a writer, he'd imagined himself writing great novels full of action and adventure; instead, he became a children's author. By the time his first book was published eight months later, Stella was expecting and they were planning their wedding.

.

OoOoOoO

.

A few more years passed. By now, Tommy and his wife were living in a small town on the coast of Maine with their three children. One day, in mid-June, Stella found her husband in his study, staring at an envelope in his hands. He had an unreadable expression on his face.

"Not bad news, I hope."

"What?"

"The envelope."

"Oh, no. It's… hard to explain. Stel, d'you mind if we go to New York for the Independence Day celebrations this year?"

"Any particular reason?"

"Yeah. Fifteen years ago on the fourth, me and my three buddies made a pact to meet up again at noon on July Fourth this year, at a certain spot, and open these envelopes."

"What's in them?"

"You'll laugh."

"Probably."

"We got our fortunes told and we though it'd be cool to see if the fortune-teller got anything right. It wasn't that we believed or anything, mostly we just thought it would be a good laugh. I'd really like to see them again, we sort of lost touch over the years."

"You think the others will show?"

"I don't know. Arnon was killed when were sixteen, but Barry and Dee…" Tommy shrugged. "Even if they don't turn up, I made a promise, and I'd like to keep it."

"Then of course we'll go."

Down in California, Barry was having a similar conversation with his girlfriend. They booked time off work, bought plane tickets and made hotel reservations for ten days in New York.

"What if your friends have forgotten?" Gina asked as they boarded their flight.

"Then at least I'll get to re-visit my old haunts and show you where I grew up. Besides, I want to visit Arnon and Jess's graves, let them know I haven't forgotten. They were good people."

.

OoOoOoO

.

Dee and Ryo arrived early, strolling among the stalls and sideshows, trying their luck whenever they felt like it. They could afford to now. So much had changed since Dee had been fifteen years old and counting every penny. He'd come here almost every year since he and his friends had made their pact, only missing on three occasions when he'd been working other areas. Most of the time he'd managed to swing it so that if he was on duty on the fourth, he was patrolling in and around this street fair. This year, he and Ryo had booked the time off in advance, though they were still keeping their eyes open for any illegal activity. Cops were never completely off-duty, especially where there were crowds.

Dee fingered the two envelopes tucked in the breast pocket of his shirt and checked his watch. Eleven thirty five. The meeting place was only half a block away, the bench looking more or less the same as it had back then, just older and weathered by time. It had been new in the summer of two thousand, this whole area freshly regenerated. Everything had a settled look now, lived in.

"Do you think your friends will have remembered?"

"No idea." Dee shrugged casually, as if it didn't matter, but he couldn't fool Ryo. "Last I heard, Barry was doing well at college down south, and Tommy had enlisted." A wry smile quirked his lips. "Never saw that one coming!"

"Even people you know well can surprise you."

"Yeah. Look at us!" Dee twined his fingers through Ryo's. They'd been working together for nearly three years, but lovers for only a few months. Despite how well they knew each other, they were still capable of giving each other plenty of surprises.

"Ice cream?" Ryo suggested, gesturing to a parked van that seemed to be doing a roaring trade. "My treat."

"Sounds good." They ambled over to the van, taking their place in line, looking over the heads of the kids and frazzled mother in front of them to view the list and deciding on cones of vanilla and strawberry. Ice creams purchased, they continued slowly on their way, enjoying the coolness of the ices in the heat.

It was still ten minutes before noon when they reached the bench. Dee glared at the youths lounging on it and they beat a hasty retreat, leaving the seat free for the two detectives. They'd been walking around the fair for almost three hours and were more than ready to take the weight off their feet for a bit.

"Guess we'll just wait here and see if the others show up," Dee decided, settling himself comfortably. "I'll give 'em until half twelve, if they're not here by then…" He trailed off, returning his attention to his ice cream.

.

OoOoOoO

.

"There's our bench." Barry pointed.

"Looks like it's occupied; your friends?"

"Still too far away to be sure, but it could be." They kept walking and as they drew closer, Barry broke into a grin. "That's Dee, the guy with black hair, I'd know him anywhere. Used to wear his hair longer, but it's him. Don't recognise the other one though. It's not Tommy."

"Barry! Hey, Barry!"

The shout came from behind him and Barry stopped, turning to face the man jogging towards him. "Tommy?"

"Hey, man! I thought that was you!" Tommy was on him in an instant, hugging him and slapping his back before pulling away to look at his old friend. "You look good! Wasn't sure if you'd be here."

"Wouldn't have missed today for the world. Tommy, meet my girlfriend, Gina."

"Hello, good to meet you at last." Gina smiled as a woman pushing a double stroller came up to them, a young girl of about eight years old walking beside her.

"Likewise," Tommy grinned. "This is my wife, Stella, this young lady is Grace, and the lazy pair in the stroller are our boys Matthew and Michael. Any sign of Dee yet?"

"Check out the bench; looks like he got here first."

Tommy looked further along the street to where Dee was deep in conversation with another man. He hadn't spotted them yet. "Well what're we waitin' for? Let's go join him!"

.

OoOoOoO

.

Dee looked up at the approaching group of people through his sunglasses, recognising his old friends. "You two are late! I was startin' to think you weren't comin'."

"Only by five minutes, man! Can't believe you got here first," Barry joked good-naturedly. "You used to be so lazy!"

"He still is," Ryo said with a grin.

"I'm not lazy, I'm just smart enough to conserve my energy," Dee corrected, getting to his feet. "Good to see you guys. It's been a long time."

"Yeah, it has. When did you get so tall? We used to be about the same height." Tommy shook his head ruefully and Dee laughed.

"Mother fed me too well."

"How is she?"

"She's good, I stop by the orphanage every month or so to fix anything needs fixin'. You'd better go visit her before you leave or she'll never forgive you. Or me."

"You still live in New York?" Barry asked, surprised.

"Where else would I go? Someone had to stay. So, aren't you goin' to introduce me to all these lovely ladies?"

"You haven't changed a bit," Barry snorted.

Once the introductions were out of the way, the three friends turned their attention to the reason they were all present, pulling out four battered, crumpled envelopes.

"How're we gonna do this?" Dee spoke quietly, looking at the two envelopes he held.

"Open Arnon's. It was his idea, he should be first." Barry's voice was firm.

"Just like fifteen years ago." Dee smiled sadly. "God, we were so young back then!" He slit the envelope open with his pocketknife, pulling out the sheet of paper and unfolding it, scanning the few short sentences. He didn't say anything, just passed the flimsy paper to Barry, who read it in sombre silence himself before handing it to Tommy.

"He made the wrong choice," Tommy finally said in a choked voice. "If he'd chosen differently, he'd probably still be here."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't had the stupid idea of keeping our fortunes secret, maybe we could've stopped his from making the wrong choice." Dee sounded angry.

"I doubt it. He and his mom needed money; he would've done anything to get it. You know how stubborn he was once he made up his mind about something. Besides, we all agreed, so if you're responsible then we all are. Barry, you're up next, let's see what you got." Tommy tried to shake his friends out of the gloomy mood they'd sunk into.

Barry tore open his envelope and passed his fortune around, then Dee, and finally Tommy.

Just like Arnon's, the other three fortunes were uncannily accurate.

"Choose the blur car, not the red." Barry chuckled. "I'd forgotten where that idea came from, but it stuck with me. If it hadn't been for that blue car I wouldn't have met Gina." He put his arm around his girlfriend and gave her a squeeze. "Did you follow the white dog, Tommy?"

"Yeah, I did, it led me out of a minefield. Funny thing is, nobody else saw it. I always figured maybe Arnon sent it to save me."

"Maybe he did."

"I've never believed in fortune-tellers, horoscopes and stuff, but that old lady… How could she have known all this?" Dee waved his fortune. "These aren't just vague predictions that could fit anyone, they're too specific."

"Maybe she was the real thing," Gina suggested. "My grandmother always said that her mother had the sight."

"You believe that?" Barry teased.

"I never met her, so I don't know, but I'd like to believe it's possible."

"So what happened to the fortune-teller?" Tommy looked at Dee.

"Beats me. I've been at this fair almost every year since, but I never saw her again. Probably went somewhere she could make more money; she wasn't exactly busy the year she was here." Dee folded his and Arnon's fortunes and put them back in his pocket. "Don't know about anyone else, but I'm starvin', I know a great little café a couple blocks from here, whaddaya say we go grab a bite to eat then try some of the games we couldn't afford last time?"

That idea was met with universal approval.

Together, they set off along the street once more, talking about old times; they had a lot of catching up to do. Dee hoped they wouldn't wait so long in future before getting together again. Old friends; they keep you from forgetting where you came from and remind you of how it felt to be young. Those were things worth holding on to.

.

The End


End file.
